Page 102 of The Furies

The coffee arrived. A TV was playing over the bar, the sound muted. More pandemic news.

“You believe this shit?” said Vero.

“It doesn’t look as though I have much choice,” I said.

“The president says it’s nothing to worry about,” said Anthony. His voice was cracked and high, the tone of arrested adolescence.

“The fuck would you know about it?” said Luca Z. “You don’t even vote.”

“If I did vote,” said Anthony, “I’d have voted for him.”

“Yeah, and if you played Powerball, you’d be a millionaire by now. Mook.”

I glanced at Louis. This was what happened when half your operation was ratted out, and even some of the smarter ones ended up in jail.

“My grandmother,” said Vero, ignoring both of them, “she could remember the Spanish flu of 1918. They were dropping like flies, she said, and the sick were left to rot in their beds. Over in New Calvary, the gravediggers were tipping the bodies straight into the graves from the open coffins so they could be reused. Never thought it would happen in my lifetime.”

There was silence, then Anthony said, “Is she still around?”

“Is who still around?” said Vero.

“Your grandmother.”

Vero peered at him, reluctant to believe that a human being in his employ could be so dumb. “No, she isn’t around,” he said. “Do I look like Methusaleh to you?”

Anthony sighed, folded his arms, and gave every indication of removing himself from the colloquy, which was no great loss to the history of discourse. From memory, Anthony meant “praiseworthy” in Italian. If this Anthony wasn’t a grave disappointment to his parents, I didn’t want to meet them.

Pirato poured coffee for Louis and me. His hand was very steady.

“You know,” he said, “after you leave, the cops, and no doubt the feds, too, may come asking why you were here.”

“Bible study,” I said.

“What about your friends? Are you going to claim that they’re students of God’s word also?”

“I’ll say they came along in case of doctrinal disagreements.”

Pirato glanced past me to where Angel was seated, still looking sorry for himself.

“Even that one? He strikes me as unwell.”

“He always looks that way.”

“Hey—” said Angel.

But everyone ignored him.

“Well, I hope you know your scripture,” said Vero.

It was time to get down to business.

“I remember something about bearing false witness,” I said, “but I’m not sure it would apply in the case of Nate Sawyer’s testimony, since all the evidence suggested it was true.”

“Sawyer is dead,” said Pirato. “He’s yesterday’s news.”

“Yet here we are, all at the mention of his name.”

“He caused us a great deal of inconvenience, and hurt a lot of good people.”

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